


4/01/2019: Quote Me On That

by pop_incognito



Series: 365 Drabbles [4]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Paparazzi, Secret Relationship, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 05:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17298551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pop_incognito/pseuds/pop_incognito
Summary: Kaoru gives the reporters a little more information than they were bargaining for.





	4/01/2019: Quote Me On That

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a 365 drabble challenge, this is day four, and it's the first one that isn't a Free! fic. Also, this is the first time I've written a Host Club fic since middle school (which was like ten years ago) so don't sue me if it's a bit off. Hope everyone enjoys!

Kaoru’s phone starts to ring incessantly at four o’clock in the morning, and doesn’t stop until Kyouya is fumbling blindly across Kaoru to the bedside table and threatening to throw the device against the wall. It falls silent just long enough for Kyouya to slump back against Kaoru’s side with an agitated groan, and then begins ringing so violently Kaoru briefly thinks that his phone is possessed and is trying to kill both him and his partner in a mechanical rage. “Kill it,” Kyouya moans, burying his face in a pillow and clapping his hands over his ears. “Jetlag might be a bitch, but it hasn’t met me after a twelve hour flight and no sleep.”

“Calm down,” Kaoru says soothingly, carding his fingers through inky black hair as he sits up and tentatively picks up the shrieking, vibrating phone. “Hikaru, I hope you worked out the time difference between Japan and Italy before calling, and have embraced your fate once Kyouya gets his hands on you for keeping him awake.”

Hikaru doesn’t take the bait for once in his life. “Kaoru.” He sounds quite haggard. “Kaoru, we didn’t find out about the story until it had already hit the internet.”

Kaoru hangs up on his twin almost before Hikaru has finished talking, and he thumbs his way onto a tabloid website. There, in bright technicolour, is a picture of Kaoru himself, a bolt of fabric in one arm as he makes his way from storeroom to model room in his Tokyo design studio. His other arm is occupied by Kyouya, dressed in a sharp KH suit as he bends his head towards Kaoru for a greeting kiss. For the first time since he moved his business into the beautiful art nouveau building, Kaoru curses the half-glass ceiling and huge windows, the photo – and the following set of them – clearly taken with a long-distance lens from the opposite building.

“Wake up, Kyouya,” Kaoru barks, voice sharp, and that laced-with-worry tone is possibly the only reason Kyouya rolls onto his side without a single growl or complaints, dark eyes slitted open and his face soft with sleep. He makes a questioning noise, eyebrows slanted in questioningly, and Kaoru quickly says, “That damn photographer finally got a good picture of us,” as he shows his phone to Kyouya, who squints blearily at it without his glasses on.

A curse slides out of his mouth, and Kyouya sits up properly. “Your show tomorrow is going to be crawling with reporters, isn’t it?” he sighs, resignation flitting across his face before he starts sliding back under the sheets.

“Unfortunately,” Kaoru mutters. “Damnit, I worked really hard on this collection, and now no one will be paying it any attention.” He lets Kyouya pull him down into the bed. “And I was really looking forward to this trip, too.”

The next day, the new KH collection hits the catwalk, and the crowds are indeed crawling with paparazzi who are more interested in the creator than his creations. Kaoru sits pride of place at the end of the catwalk, slumped in his seat with a pout on his face and his arms crossed as he hears people jostling their way through the chairs behind him, and Kyouya sits right next to him, cool and poised as always, even with a vein visibly throbbing in annoyance on his temple.

“It’s a truly beautiful collection,” Kyouya says quietly after the first few outfit rotations. “I knew I made a good choice asking you to design all those outfits for the club.” He even graces Kaoru with one of his rare smiles, slow and lovely, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

A reporter manages to break through, finally, and Kaoru groans, turning sharply to glare at the man brandishing a recording phone in his face. “This is a private event, don’t make me call security on you,” he says blandly. “Because they’ve been provided by the Ootori Group, and they are _very_ good at their job.” Kaoru smiles devilishly.

“I would hate for someone to get hurt when it could be so easily prevented,” Kyouya chimes in, voice smooth and charming even as he glares at the reporter, glasses flashing.

The reporter is either ridiculously brave or ridiculously stupid, because he ignores the overt warning that danger lies before him and opens his mouth. “Hitachiin Kaoru, do you have anything to say about the pictures published this morning of you and Ootori Kyouya?”

“Yes, don’t talk about people like they aren’t here,” Kaoru says tersely, letting his hand splay over Kyouya’s knee. Kyouya merely arches an unimpressed eyebrow at the reporter and allows Kaoru to take the brunt of questions, knows that once his partner has gotten started on the press. “Have you got anymore asinine questions, or can I have you escorted out with the rest of your flock of vultures?” He purses his lips, knows he looks just like his grandmother when he makes that expression. “If you hadn’t noticed, I am _trying_ to display a new clothing line.”

“How long have you been dating Ootori?” Clearly, the reporter has decided that if he’s going to die at the hands of the legendary Ootori private police force, he might as well go for gold while doing it

A Cheshire Cat grin spreads over Kaoru’s face as he says, “We aren’t dating,” just for the look of shock on the reporter’s face before he continues, “we’re married.” His grin widens when Kyouya’s hand suddenly appears in his. “And you can quote me on that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I may have based this off a tumblr post I saw a while ago. Please comment and leave kudos, they feed my soul!


End file.
